


Graduation

by MindfulWrath



Series: Early Days Yet [3]
Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindfulWrath/pseuds/MindfulWrath
Summary: Being two years ahead of Henry at university, Robert of course was the first to graduate. However, before he moves on to London, he hosts a very small, very intimate going-away party.





	Graduation

In the thin crowd, it wasn't difficult to spot Henry, and Robert made a beeline for him. Henry waved, and Robert brandished his diploma, grinning.

"Fairly painless, all things considered," Robert said, arriving at Henry's side. "Though it could've been done with an hour ago and I wouldn't have complained."

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Dr. Lanyon," Henry said, glowing with pride.

"I suppose indeed they are, _Mr._ Jekyll," Robert responded. Henry pressed a hand to his heart and winced.

"You wound me, sir, you really do," he said.

"It's not for much longer, Henry," Robert said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Only another couple of years."

"I shall work all the harder to make it as short as possible," said Henry.

"God, don't," said Robert. "You already work too hard, you'll kill yourself if you work any harder."

"You seemed to manage," said Henry, pouting.

"I worked as little as humanly possible," said Robert. "Which you very well know."

"Yes, but Robert, you're a _genius,"_ said Henry.

"And you're _not?"_

Henry just smiled and took Robert's arm. "I thought I'd take you to dinner somewhere, to celebrate," he said.

"Really?" said Robert. The two of them started away, arm in arm. "I was thinking I might like to stay in."

 _"You?"_ said Henry. "Stay _in?_ My God, the world is ending. Next thing we know you shall be as sober and as dull as all the other old doctors. _Stay in,_ indeed."

Robert tugged him closer and murmured in his ear.

"With you," he said. Henry got very red.

"Oh," he said. "Well. It's—your celebration, I suppose you should get the final say on the—the venue."

Robert kissed his hair. "If it's all right with you," he demurred.

"Yes," Henry said faintly. "Exceedingly."

* * *

 

Robert pushed Henry up against the wall, kissing him desperately. Henry clung to him like he was going to be swept away. Robert shucked his coat off and fumbled with the buttons on Henry's shirt. The moment the top four were undone, he kissed his way along Henry's jaw to his neck. Henry's head fell back against the wall and one of his hands gripped Robert's hair. Robert bit down, gnawing and sucking at the tender flesh. Henry's back arched and he let out a muffled moan. Robert pulled back just enough to see that he'd pressed his own hand over his mouth. The hand peeled away almost immediately, even as Henry's other tightened in Robert's hair.

"Don't stop, please, God, don't stop," Henry gasped, trembling where he stood. Such was his desperation that Robert didn't bother replying. There was molten iron beneath his skin, filling him with heat. He fastened his mouth onto Henry's neck again, pressed his thigh up between Henry's legs. The whimper that escaped Henry's throat was simply exquisite.

When the skin between his teeth grew hot and soft, Robert moved to a new spot. Henry dragged his fingernails down the back of his neck, grabbed hold of the collar of his shirt and tugged. Obligingly, Robert broke off, but it was only to have Henry kiss him, open-mouthed and breathless. Robert took the opportunity to undo the rest of the buttons on Henry's shirt. He slid his hands along the bare skin, pushing Henry's shirt and braces off his shoulders. Henry let go only long enough to wriggle the rest of the way out of his shirt, and then one hand clasped the back of Robert's neck while the other took hold of the waistband of his trousers, fingers curled inside. Robert broke off the kiss, resting his forehead against Henry's, and for a time the two of them simply stood there, catching their breath, bodies pressed together.

"I—would you—" Henry stammered. His eyes were unfocused, pupils wide with wanting, his lips and cheeks stained red.

"More than anything," said Robert, every breath a prayer.

Henry kissed him again, unfastened the button of his trousers deftly and one-handed. Robert braced a hand against the wall and tangled the other in Henry's hair, his heart racing, an unbearable ache in him. Henry wrapped a hand around Robert's wrist and sank to his knees, looking up at him with unmasked adoration.

Robert shut his eyes and locked his knees as Henry nuzzled into his crotch, as his breath ghosted against Robert's swollen cock. He took the tip into his mouth, hot and wet and soft, and Robert's knees buckled. Henry took him slowly, half an inch at a time, rolling his tongue along the length of him, methodical and intent.

"Henry," Robert whispered, overwhelmed. "Henry, you're so good. . . ."

He felt Henry's breath catch, a shiver run through him. Robert carded his fingers through his hair, caressing, encouraging. Henry took him deeper, all the way to the base. The tip of Robert's cock slid into his throat, the tightness of it twitching at the unaccustomed intrusion, and Henry didn't so much as flinch.

"Mother of God," Robert blurted, the words spilling over his lips untended. His hips twitched involuntarily, needing more, needing it _now._

Henry slid back, lingering, reverent, until Robert's tip rested on his lips. His breathing was deep and rapid. He met Robert's eyes and the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile.

"And—apparently very talented," Robert said, drawn between nonchalance and abject begging.

Excruciatingly, Henry pulled back just an inch more, and let Robert's cock fall from his mouth. Robert nearly screamed, but Henry was still holding his eyes, still gripping his wrist.

"Robert," he murmured, and his voice was hoarse with longing. _"Use me."_

All the words fell out of Robert's head, all the pretty phrases and demure innuendoes, and he yanked Henry forward by his hair. Henry wrapped his lips around his cock again, utterly pliant, utterly obedient. His mouth was the sweetest thing Robert had ever felt, and Robert savored every instant of it, every scrape of teeth and caress of tongue, fucked him as slowly as he could stand. A steady stream of praise flowed from his lips, at which Henry gasped and shivered and moaned, clutching at Robert's wrist and ankle with desperate and clumsy fingers.

Robert finished in Henry's throat, and the way he swallowed around him was enough to make him gasp aloud. He pulled out slowly, loathe to lose that warmth but more concerned that he might suffocate Henry if he didn't. He sank to his knees and collapsed against Henry, kissed him slow and messy. He could taste his own salt lingering on Henry's tongue. Henry clasped a hand around the back of Robert's neck, laid the other on his heart. Pulling Henry half into his lap, Robert slid a hand into his trousers, found him hot and hard and dripping. Henry's hips bucked at the touch and he whimpered into Robert's mouth.

"Here, just one moment," Robert murmured. He shifted until his back was against the wall, then settled Henry between his legs. Henry's head lolled back against his shoulder, his lips parted, his chest heaving.

Carefully, Robert laid a hand over his mouth, dipped his head and kissed him just under the ear. Henry writhed, his back arching, his heels pushing against the floor. The press of his hips against Robert's hypersensitive cock was almost too much to bear. Robert undid Henry's trousers and wrapped his hand around his length. Henry moaned, muffled by Robert's hand.

"You've been so good, Henry," Robert said, stroking him slowly. "You've been very good to me. But we're so far from done, my love."

Henry clutched Robert's arm with both hands. Robert bowed his head again and pressed his tongue to Henry's neck, picked out a spot and dug his teeth into it. He kept the motions of his hand smooth and slow, even as Henry bucked his hips. His whimpers were turning to screams, wordless pleas echoed by the fingernails he dug into Robert's skin. Robert finished leaving his mark on Henry's neck and moved to whisper in his ear, lips brushing the soft skin.

"I'll have you half a dozen times by morning," he said. Henry drew a long and shuddering breath and pushed his hips up again. Robert lifted his hand from Henry's mouth, just for a moment.

"Robert, God's sake, have mercy," Henry begged, rutting into his hand.

"Ah, but you see," said Robert, "perhaps this is how my _use_ plays out."

_"Robert!"_

He clapped his hand over Henry's mouth again, bit his neck, stroked him fast and sure. Henry came into his hand in seconds, trembling and gasping. Robert stroked his hair, turned his head gently to kiss him. Henry melted in his arms, slid from his kiss to rest his head on Robert's neck.

"Half a dozen times by morning," Robert murmured. "And every time I see you until the day I die."

Henry shivered again.

"God, please," he whispered.

* * *

 

In the end, they only managed twice more before they were both too sore and exhausted to continue. After that, they simply lay in Robert's bed, hands and legs twined together. The night was balmy and quiet, the room lit in pale blue by moonlight.

"I'm going to miss you terribly," Robert murmured, when the silence had stretched long enough.

Henry pulled a deprecating half-smile, rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure you'll forget all about me as soon as you're in London," he said.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Robert. "I shall worry about you constantly. How will I know you've been eating and sleeping properly?"

"I'll have Gabriel to look after me," Henry said. "It's you I'm worried about."

"Me?" said Robert. "What, do you think I can't take care of myself?"

"No, of course not," said Henry. "It's only . . . I'll miss you terribly."

Robert stroked his face, trying to ease the pain from it.

"I'll write," he promised. "Twice a week."

"Only twice a week?"

"So that you'll have time to answer," Robert said. "By your own admission, you'll be dreadfully busy. I refuse to hinder your success by distracting you with too many letters."

"You could never hinder me," said Henry. "Except by my missing you too much."

"I could stay," Robert said, and he wasn't entirely joking. "One can never have too many degrees. I could get another."

"No," said Henry, rolling his eyes again. "You've got a practice in London waiting for you. You couldn't possibly pass that up for me."

"I could," said Robert.

Henry cracked a smile, but the expression faded quickly. He lowered his gaze, eyes half-closed.

"I will never understand what it is you see in me," he said.

"Henry," Robert said, pained. "Everything! You're charming, you're brilliant, you're exceedingly kind—"

"I'm none of those things," Henry said, shaking his head.

"Don't do this, please," Robert begged. "Not now. Not at my going away party. I love you dearly, and there's nothing you can say that will change my mind."

"All right," said Henry. He lifted Robert's hand and kissed it. "I'll be good."

"I'll hold you to that," Robert warned.

Henry smiled again, languorous.

"I look forward to it," he said.


End file.
